The Shining Star
by tkross
Summary: The Doctor meets his most challenging adversary in the form of a psychic ceramic coffee cup. Will he be able to dispose of it before Rose finds out his innermost thoughts and feelings?


Thank you to the lovely lastincurableromantic for agreeing to beta this story. Contains mild sexual references/content but I didn't think it quite fit the mature rating

* * *

The Doctor sat on the edge of the counter in the TARDIS kitchen; glasses perched on the end of his nose, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Frowning in intense concentration as he aimed the sonic screwdriver at the object in his hands, he did not hear his companion enter the room.

"Break that again and 'm gonna kill ya," Rose mumbled as her feet shuffled towards the counter.

She reached towards him, her fingers dancing across his cheek, then through the strands of his hair, making his scalp tingle. Their eyes met briefly, awkwardly. The Doctor swallowed in nervous anticipation, wondering if she would dare to finally take this unspoken thing they'd always had between them to a new level. He tried not to feel disappointed when she patted him on the head as though he was a nice puppy instead. She opened the cabinet behind him, grabbed a cup, and began preparing her morning coffee.

The Doctor exhaled, just realizing he'd momentarily forgotten how to breathe. "I'll have you know that I've never broken this waffle iron! That was Jack! Hold on. No, actually it was Adam, wasn't it? Forgot about that. Sodding idiot tried to make orange juice in it! Orange juice, Rose! And to think you fancied him." He shook his head with a look of disgust.

"Now, Jack was the one who broke my sonic blender. The man had a serious lack of appreciation for anything sonic that wasn't a weapon! I never break anything. Well, I say never… The point is, I don't break things unless I intend to break them. I'm the Doctor - I fix things! Of course neither of those incidents compare to the time that Ace blew up the -"

"Doctor! As charming as this little speech is, I just woke up. I need my coffee before listening to energetic time lords going on about who broke what during 900 years of time and space," Rose said, her spoon clicking the side of her cup a bit harder than usual.

"Right. I'll just - " He paused, contemplating. Rose rarely wanted to converse before her morning dose of caffeine, but usually she liked listening to him talk. A thought occurred to him and he smiled smugly. "I think you're just upset that I said you fancied Adam."

Rose glared at him, causing his smile to falter. He scratched the back of his neck and then ran his thumb across his lips, indicating a promise of silence.

Instead of going back to his task, he observed her as she sat at the table sipping her coffee. He loved watching her this way: all bed heady, make-up free, and adorably grumpy. He found himself focusing on the way her lips met the edge of the cup, the way her tongue seemed to caress the coffee as it flowed into her mouth. _Lucky cup, gets to have those lips on it every single morning._ That's when words suddenly started to appear.

The side of the cup facing him, thankfully not visible to Rose, now read: "I envy the cup of coffee that gets to kiss your sleepy lips awake every cold and bitter morning." _Hold on! That's not what I was thinking! Well, maybe it was a bit, but I'd never use those words. And I'd certainly never envy a cup._

The words disappeared but were immediately replaced. "Her lips, the colour of soft pink roses, beckon to me; call to me. Her eyes, the colour of honey, invite me to lose myself in their fathomless depths." _Oh come on! I would never ever say that! That's awful, that is! You were much closer the first time. Wait — why and how am I even talking to you?_

The Doctor deposited the waffle iron onto the counter and quickly snatched the cup out of Rose's hands, just as she was about to take another sip.

"Doctor! Wha —"

"Rose, the cup, no the coffee — yes, the coffee! You can't drink even one more sip," he said urgently.

Rose's confusion turned to panic. "Why? Is it poisoned? Oh god, it's poisoned, isn't it?" She grimaced and then started licking her shirt, trying to remove the taste of the coffee from her mouth.

The Doctor's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Huh? Poisoned? Nah, why would it be poisoned? You just made it yourself."

When Rose glared at him again, he realized he must have said something rude so he hugged her briefly before pulling back to explain himself.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. But you shouldn't drink anymore coffee, Rose. It will only agitate you further, and frankly you're already a bit agitated this morning as it is. I wasn't going to mention it, but really, I have to think about your health. Tea! That's what you need. It's much better for you — tannins and free radicals. Remember? I'll make some for you. In a different cup, a clean one. This one's filthy." He eyed the cup suspiciously and then looked up to find Rose looking at him similarly.

"Okay. I'm not even gonna try to figure out what's going on in that brain of yours right now. I'll be in the shower. You enjoy that cuppa, yeah?" She shook her head as she walked out of the room.

The Doctor waited a few seconds to make sure Rose wasn't coming back and then pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. He found the setting he needed, placed the cup on the table, and sat down in a chair.

"Okay, I don't know where you came from or what you are, but let's find out, shall we?" he said as he scanned the cup.

"Huh. So you're like the psychic paper, only a cup instead. Oh but that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of that? Hold on. How did you get here in the first place?"

The cup remained frustratingly blank. "Of course, you aren't exactly going to respond to questions are you? Could have been Jack, I suppose. Or is this your doing, old girl?" The TARDIS hummed in an amused affirmative way, but he wasn't sure which question she was answering.

It might be an amazing cup, but he needed to hide it. He certainly didn't want it translating all of his thoughts every time someone — especially a certain someone - decided to use it. He placed it in one of the dimensionally transcendental cubbies in the kitchen that Rose didn't know about, locked it, and left for the console room.

* * *

The next morning, the Doctor walked into the TARDIS kitchen to find Rose already awake and sitting at the table.

"Hello! Couldn't sleep?" he asked her. They'd only been back on the TARDIS for four hours and usually Rose slept a lot longer than that.

"No, I had a bad dream so I thought I'd make a cuppa. I'm fine now though." She smiled warmly at him.

The Doctor's eyes darkened. He'd come so close to losing her yet again and even though their enemies had been defeated, they were still hurting Rose. He pointed to his temple. "I can help with those, if you want."

Rose shook her head. "Maybe later, if they get to be too much. For now, I think I need them; it's my brain's way of dealing with some of the things we do, yeah?" she said while sipping her tea.

He didn't like it but smiled back at her in surrender. She was so brave and resilient, his Rose. Then he scowled in confusion as he noticed the cup she was using.

On the side facing him, it now said, "The bravest and the fairest of them all, my Rose fills my world with light where there was once darkness. May the hounds of hell prey upon all those who threaten to take her from me." _Well, that's a bit dramatic don't you think? 'Hounds of hell.' Really? And how the hell did you get out of that cabinet?_

Very calmly, he asked, "Rose, where did you find that cup?"

Rose pointed to the counter the Doctor had been sitting at the previous day. "In that cabinet, where all of the cups have always been. Why? Do you think it's possessed or something?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

The Doctor sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I think the TARDIS is playing tricks on me, Rose." He met her eyes. "You can't drink out of that cup. It's got some, uh, chemicals on it that are bad for humans. Very, very bad. I'll have to throw it in the incinerator. I thought I'd managed to get rid of it, but it's back somehow."

"Doctor, are you sayin' that the TARDIS is trying to hurt me? Come on, that's a bit hard to believe, don't you think?" Rose's amused smile grew bigger.

"What? No! Of course she isn't trying to hurt you. But I'm going to need you to give me that cup before it causes your endocrine system to explode. That's what the chemicals do to the human body. I hope it isn't too late already." The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair and then tugged aggressively on his ear.

Rose put the cup on the table, standing up so that she was mere centimetres away from the Doctor's face. Her eyes narrowed as her expression took on that serious, determined look that she sometimes got when facing enemies or interrogating people. The Doctor swallowed. He knew that look well.

On another Tyler face it terrified him and made him want to hide behind a couch, for fear of a slap. Seeing Rose's face like this also made him want to find the nearest object large enough to conceal his body, but for an entirely different reason: he found it ridiculously arousing. Of course half of the looks she gave him had that effect on him, but he didn't need to think about that right now.

While she sized him up, he tried to control the inevitable and, very familiar, feeling of blood rushing to a particular part of his body. Fortunately, this was not an arduous task for a Time Lord, but it had become increasingly difficult of late.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" Rose said, looking him sternly in the eye.

He beamed at her, hoping he looked charming and innocent. Carefully, he reached behind her to grab the cup, trying not to focus on how her breath felt on his face, or on how inviting her bottom lip currently looked.

"Especially when you're doing it this badly," Rose continued. "You might as well tell me what you're on about, Doctor, because I'm gonna find out." She smiled her fake, knowing smile. "And if you think I didn't notice you grabbing that cup just now, then you don't know me at all."

That statement would have taken him aback had her eyes not been filled with silent laughter when she made it; she was enjoying this.

The Doctor averted his eyes, wondering if he could successfully propel the cup behind his back, into the incinerator, from his current position. "Of course, I knew that you'd notice! I always say, 'that Rose Tyler is an impeccable noticer! She's a regular Sherlock, she is.' Tell that to everyone I meet - just ask around."

Rose lifted her left eyebrow and then quickly reached behind the Doctor to make a grab for the cup just as he was about to throw it.

"Ha!" she said, grabbing onto it. But the Doctor was quicker. His grip on the cup tightened, beginning a tug of war between them that he would have found impressive, if not for the pervasive fear he felt of what she might find written on the cup should she win. He jerked her into his body, trying to gain the advantage, and was proud to see the resulting flush to her cheeks. He smirked.

"Take that!" he yelled with a manic grin, because victory seemed a certainty. Rose smiled back, looking far too confident for someone about to lose, reached her other arm around his back and tugged. To the Doctor's complete shock, he lost his hold on the cup. From the look in Rose's eyes, he could tell she was shocked too, but she recovered immediately.

Rose untangled herself from his waist, glanced at the cup, her eyes widening as she read the words on it. She looked up at him, looked back at the cup, then back at him again, a silent question half-formed on her lips. Whatever the cup said had left her speechless and blushing.

The Doctor nervously scratched the back of his neck and then ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even further. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again.

"Rose, I can explain. Well, I could do if you let me see what's written on it right now," he said sincerely. Wordlessly, she handed the cup back to him and then sat in the nearest chair.

The Doctor watched her for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction.

He looked down at the words on the cup and plopped down into the chair next to Rose. "Oh," he said, because that's really all he could say in response, for now the cup read, "I dream of all the ways I can make you scream, Rose, my golden goddess. Not in pain, but in pleasure you couldn't possibly imagine, pleasure that no human could possibly deliver: fast and rough from behind, slow and languid on the table, on the floor, on your bed."

Finally, after what felt like several hours of silence, Rose cleared her throat. "Is it true? Do you really want to do those things to me?" She still wasn't looking him in the eye so he couldn't tell what she was really feeling.

The Doctor got up, started pacing the room. "Well, Rose, you see that cup, it doesn't translate my exact thoughts. It interprets them, rather badly in fact — I mean, really, does that even sound like something I'd say?" He glanced at her, saw the look of disappointment wash over her face, and made a decision.

"As I was saying, it interprets them. Sort of like the psychic paper, only it seems to be compelled to turn things into bad poetry. But -" He swallowed before continuing. "But, it doesn't lie. It can't. It uses my thoughts and feelings. Only I wish you would have seen the ones from earlier instead - they were rather less embarrassing." He glanced at her briefly and then started pacing again.

Rose walked over to him, grabbed onto both of his arms so that he would stand still, and then placed her fingers over his lips. "Doctor, I don't mind. In fact, I've thought of quite a few similar scenarios, though, mind you, they've never involved the kitchen sink." She smiled, her tongue touching her top teeth in that way of hers she had when teasing or flirting with him.

Without breaking eye contact, he sucked her fingers into his mouth, one by one, watched as her eyes glazed over with lust. Feeling even more confident, he grasped her waist, pulling her closer and making her gasp at the suddenness of his actions.

"So, Rose Tyler, what do you think about following the suggestions of a cup?" Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and began to bring his face closer to hers.

Rose bit her lip and abruptly turned her head, leaving his lips puckered against empty air instead of Rose flesh. He opened his eyes, startled.

"This is nice, Doctor. Really nice. But as much as I want us to do this — and believe me, I really, really do -" Rose paused for a moment, started playing with the buttons on his brown pinstripe jacket, and then looked up at him.

"I think we should ease into it a bit. There's no rush, right? I mean this changes everything, and the friendship we have, Doctor, it's too important for a quick —" She cut herself off, taking a deep breath. "It's just too important, okay?"

The Doctor nodded, resigned. That was supposed to be _his_ argument, after all, but now that it was all out in the open, the last thing he wanted was to ease into it. Why was she afraid now that he wasn't? "Kitchen sink?" he asked, instead of sharing what he really wanted to say.

The mood now slightly altered, Rose seemed less comfortable, less confident. She blushed again, picked at her thumbnail, and began biting it. "Ah, that. The message changed while I read it. I, um, I saw more than what's on there right now."

"Oh? And what'd it say?" The Doctor took her hands, brought them back to his lips to kiss them before linking them with his own. Despite Rose's deflection, he felt fearless, liberated, ready to finally give in; to jump without looking, so long as it meant they would be doing it together. Any minute now, he was certain he'd lose his courage.

Rose swallowed. "Just some stuff about different positions we could try. It got, um, it got a bit specific." She sucked her bottom lip, glancing down at their now joined hands.

He tilted her chin up, looked at her earnestly, hoping that his eyes reflected the feelings he had for her. Rose gazed back at him, searchingly, but just as he was sure she was beginning to understand, something distracted her and she looked away.

She reached for the cup again and took it back from him. "Hold on. It's writing something else." Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth to stifle a cry. Or so he thought, until she broke into a fit of laughter.

"What? What could possibly be so funny? Lemme see it!" The Doctor demanded in a voice a pitch higher than normal.

"No way! I'm keeping this forever!" She smiled her biggest, brightest smile and put her arms around his neck briefly before pulling away. Finally, she relented and showed him the cup, her grip tightening around the handle as he read what it said.

That ineffable courage he felt moments ago evaporated, leaving him feeling vulnerable. Most of the secret things he felt for her were laid bare for all to see on a cup. On a cup! And she had laughed at it!

"Is this really how you see me, Doctor? Because I'm just me; I'm not some shining star or any of that other stuff it says," she said, biting her bottom lip and looking much more nervous than giggly.

"Yes," he said simply, truthfully. "I'd say I could put it in better words, but honestly…"

"You never would," Rose finished for him with a look of resigned acceptance.

He shrugged, no longer knowing what to say. She'd give up on him now. Perverted old man with a fear of commitment that he was, she'd demand to be taken home directly.

"Doctor, ask me again," Rose said, a small smile on her lips.

The Doctor looked at her blankly. "Sorry? Ask you what?"

She arched her eyebrow suggestively and realization hit him. "Oh. Oh! You mean that! But I thought you wanted to wait," the Doctor said, frowning in confusion.

"Well, that's when I thought you just wanted a quick shag on the table." Focusing on his lips, she blindly set the cup down behind her and then pulled on his tie, tugging him closer.

"Rose, how could you possibly think that?" the Doctor asked, feeling simultaneously flabbergasted and giddy. "I don't exactly go around shagging my way across galaxies you know. I don't do this. As a rule, I just don't. But you, Rose Tyler, seem to have me breaking all of my rules."

Rose beamed at him, apparently happy to hear him admit this much aloud, at least.

Not sure how to interpret Rose's sudden change in attitude, he asked, "is that a yes then? And, if so, a yes to what? I just want to make sure I have it right, because I'm having trouble keeping up, to be honest."

"Doctor, yes. I feel the same way about you, but at the moment I'd rather —" Her eyes flicked to his lips. "We'll talk later. Just kiss me, okay?" she demanded, pulling him closer, her lips touching his lightly.

The Doctor paused, allowing his lips to rest against hers, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her breath mingling with his own. Her tongue flicked against his bottom lip, making him lose all remaining self-restraint. Wrapping his arms around her back, he pulled her even closer and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She moaned, and his impressive Time Lord brain went impossibly blank; all he knew was pure want.

His lips began to move against hers with increasing pressure and she responded immediately, her soft lips melding into his. She ran her hands through his hair, and then up and down his back in a rhythmic motion that had him groaning and silently begging for more. Increasing the suction of his lips, he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth, pushing and pulling in a way that was reminiscent of their earlier game of tug of war. His hands began roaming up her shirt, onto bare skin as he pressed himself into her and brought her closer, but not close enough. He wanted more. Absent-mindedly, he walked them backwards until Rose's back hit a nearby wall, startling them both with the unexpected impact.

She abruptly broke the kiss with a gasp, breathless. With shaking hands she began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Inwardly protesting at the loss of her lips, he began sucking hungrily on her neck, and then pulled away to still her hands, placing them above her head. She gave him a questioning look, and in answer he seized her lips once again.

Between kisses he said, "slowly, Rose Tyler. Today I want to get to know your mouth and your neck." He sucked on her pulse point again for emphasis. "Tomorrow, your breasts and that lovely back of yours." He dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her tightly against him. "The day after that, I'll spend hours learning how to make you scream, just like the cup said, only louder." Rose whimpered. "And do you know what happens on the fourth day, Rose?" She bit her lip, shaking her head. "On the fourth day, we finally make love."

Rose pulled away from him, frowning. "Hold on. Don't I get a say in any of this?"

The Doctor tugged her back to him, smiling mischievously. "On the fifth day, Rose Tyler, you can have your wicked way with me, however you want. But for now, anticipation! It makes it more fun, don't you think?"

Rose tapped her finger to her chin, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips. Finally, she nodded. "I like that plan. Good plan. So snogging?"

He nodded, feeling a sense of bliss that rivalled his arousal. "Yep. Today, snogging." He kissed her quickly, pulled away again to look her in the eye, and then nipped at her collarbone. "And neck exploring. Must not forget that part." Sucking her lips into his own, he allowed himself to focus entirely on the sensation of kissing Rose Tyler. Though it would likely be torture for him to drag it out, he was determined to take his time exploring and enjoying every part of her, showing her how much he loved her, even if he couldn't yet say it. Where things would lead after that fifth day, he had no idea, but he was certain it'd be absolutely brilliant.

If the TARDIS could grin smugly, she would be doing so now. She'd fooled the Doctor into believing the cup was psychic and had effectively gotten him to admit his feelings to their favourite human. Concentrating all of her power into the cup for a singular moment, she engraved the final words into it so that they would remain there forever, just as Rose Tyler wanted.

The words wrapped tightly around the cup, now etched into the ceramic permanently: "My Rose, you are The Shining Star of the solar system that is my hearts; your spirit and sparkling eyeballs fill the coldest, darkest planets with warmth and light, and the hottest, brightest planets with colourful fans and much needed shade; your smile, your laughter, fills the ocean that is my ravenous soul with exotic fishes, but also with pure elation and insatiable desire. Your compassion took a battered and embittered Time Lord and reminded him of his way: I was afraid, but I am no longer, for I love you, have always loved you. Every time I take your hand, every time I clutch you to my chest, those inadequate words echo through my entire being. And now, my brave, wonderful Rose, now you know."

The TARDIS was rather proud of this interpretation of the Time Lord's thoughts and emotions, in as much as it was possible for her to feel such things (even if Rose Tyler had rudely laughed at her choice of words). She'd used all of the love poetry that was catalogued in her library to help create it, after all, so how could it not be a masterpiece worthy of preserving?


End file.
